


The Swan Prince

by cupidty11



Category: Merlin (TV), Swan Princess (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Eventual Happy Ending, Fairy Tale Retellings, Genderfluid Character, Good Uther (kinda), Growing Up Together, M/M, Merlin can talk to animals, Minor Character Death, Misogyny, Nonbinary Character, Other, Royal Merlin (Merlin), Temporary Character Death, Time Skips, Weddings, Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2020-12-24 09:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidty11/pseuds/cupidty11
Summary: Based on the 1994 'Swan Princess' film.Princes Emrys and Arthur have been brought together each summer in hopes they will one day fall in love and unite their kingdoms. Throwing a wrench into the plans however, is a power hungry King Cenred, determined to claim the kingdom he had lost in a previous grab for power. He curses Prince Emrys (known to his loved ones as Merlin) to transform into a swan by day in a bid to force him to marry Cenred and claim his kingdom legally. Only a declaration of True Love in front of the World can break the curse. Hopefully, Arthur can get his foot out of his mouth in time to rescue his True Love.





	1. The Beginning of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd and looked over by rainbowdolphinsattack, watachiwanekokawaidesu and ofmagicandmusic. Thank you all!
> 
> This is my first fic in the Merlin fandom despite adoring the show (and reading literally 1000+ fics), so be gentle. I am generally concerned about characterization, especially since it's an AU. And it's a bit more ambitious for a first fic than I would of preferred but, oh well.

Once upon a time there was a King and Queen named Balinor and Hunith who ruled the small but mighty kingdom of Repisoul.

It was a place of magic and peace. But, not everything was well. Because as the years had gone on, there had yet to be a child to one day take the throne.

The monarchs begged magic itself to give them a baby. In return, they left fine gifts of gold and herbs and oils and prayed every night for a year.

Finally, on the 366th day of prayers to the gods and goddesses of nature and magic, Hunith knew herself to be with child. It was an easy pregnancy and then there was he was. A prince. And he was given the name of Emrys.

Kings, Queens and nobles alike came from all across the continent to offer their gifts to the new born heir. Among them was the widower King Uther and his young son, Prince Arthur.

Queen Igraine had died in childbirth not even four years past. It was no secret that they, like Hunith and Balinor, had also asked magic to give them a child. But, rather than ask through devotion and patience, the queen and king of Camelot had tried to get everything, without giving anything. Perhaps it was this that led to Igraine’s death. Or maybe it was merely the way that nature sometimes worked; without mercy.

Before her death, Igraine had made Uther swear that he would not take revenge on the ones who had magic. She knew her husband could be quick to anger and slow to forgive, prone to vengeful thoughts. And it was only her dying wish that kept from him shutting down entirely. Instead, he focused all his despair on the herculean task of raising his son. Even now Uther had an uneasy relationship with magic and the ones who used it, but he knew enough that magic, like nature, could not be contained or truly controlled. It did not stop him from unwittingly passing quick and harsh judgments when faced with someone who used magic in crimes or who used it carelessly. Magic itself felt like an unfortunate truth; a relative that you did not like or had anything in common with, but whom you must suffer and tolerate. It didn’t stop him from bad mouthing magic users and unwittingly passing along a kind of second-hand bigotry to his son who saw his father’s scorn, his temper and internalized it, idolizing his father like most sons did for a while. Wanting his approval.

But, perhaps it was enough that he’d remained allies with the monarchs of Repisoul, not swaying from their long friendship. To do so not only would be catastrophic for his kingdom but, for his soul as well. So, upon hearing the news of the birth of the new prince, he’d felt bittersweet joy for his long time allies.

Camelot came to see the child, on white steeds with gifts in tow, Prince Arthur squirming atop the horse in front of his father and into the great gleaming castle walls. The Court Physician and trusted advisor, Gaius watched with muted amusement as Arthur was lowered to the ground and immediately began to run around until he could be wrangled back in by his nursemaid.

It was only a short wait before they could see the new babe, swaddled in an intricately carved bassinet and draped with fine fabrics. Uther gently pushed his son towards it.

The golden child of Camelot stared down into the bassinet, eyes wide with awe. He had never seen a human so tiny before. The baby was perfect, with round, soft cheeks and a mess of curly black hair. Big blue eyes stared back up into his own. Arthur grinned and the baby laughed in reply, reaching out with chubby fingers. Arthur carefully took them in his own, like they might be made of glass. Emrys’ eyes flashed gold, and soon flowers were growing up the prince’s arm.

The parents (and Gaius) all stiffened, unsure how the young prince would react as magic was much rarer in Camelot. Arthur’s eyes grew even wider and he let out a loud shout of surprise. It startled Emrys who began to cry. The prince gasped and began to pet the baby’s head like he would a pup, making shushing noises and apologizing. Sure enough, it worked, with Emrys staring once again at the prince with wide watery eyes.

Uther made eye contact with Balinor and Hunith and knew that they all had the same idea. Their kingdoms were great allies. There had always been a strong friendship between them, wonderful trading and intermingling of their people. But, perhaps they could one day make it binding beyond paper. A true joining of their lands.

Later, over a fine feast it was decided that Arthur and Emrys would be brought together each summer in hopes that they would fall in love and join their kingdoms forever.

Unknown to all, another plan was being put into place.

That of King Cenred of Essetir, who had just come into his monarchy after the _convenient_ death of his father. He was a cruel king who never seemed to be happy with what he had, always reaching for more. Taking and taking from his own people until many lived in poverty. He had rooms full of gold and rich feasts, servants who waited on him hand and foot and yet it was not enough.

For the young, arrogant king also desired magic. But, Cenred had no natural power of his own. And he did not have the patience to spend years attempting to learn. Instead he tortured an elderly sorcerer into creating several collars. Enchanted metal that would seal up a person’s magic. And inscribed with Cenred’s name in druidic runes that made the wearer do his bidding. It was far too easy then to capture the mighty high priestess, Morgause. From then on, as much as she might despise her master, she was at his mercy and under his command.

Still not satisfied, King Cenred wanted the place where magic was rumored to be born. Where a rich and prosperous kingdom flourished. The Kingdom of Repisoul. With an army and a great sorceress under his command, Cenred was confident he could take the kingdom with ease. The power such a place would grant him, both magical and strategic, he could take over ANY kingdom. He could become High King of all of Albion.

And indeed he sliced through the kingdom of Repisoul with dark magic, stormed their gates, slayed knights and peasants alike. It was King Balinor that drove Cenred back, bought enough time for the armies of their allies to arrive and defend their kingdom. To defend his queen and child. It was also King Balinor who succumbed to a mortal wound, not long after Cenred was captured.

People from both kingdoms, his own and Repisoul, called for Cenred’s death. But, it was Queen Hunith who saw that Cenred would rather die, die than live a disgraced fallen monarch who had nothing. So, she banished him, unaware of the sorceress who remained hidden in wait for the hated call of her master. She sent him away from civilization and claimed his kingdom for her own.

Before he disappeared into the forest, he cried out, “I am not done. One day I will be back. And when I return, everything you own, everything you love will be mine.”

And though people feared their queen to be too kind, they also rejoiced under her rule, even as she hid away to weep over the loss of her husband. Hunith held her son to her chest and vowed to protect him or die trying. The people mourned for King Balinor, all the way to Camelot.

But, as the years went by and the seasons changed from Winter to Spring...hopes turned towards the Summer, when Princes Emrys and Arthur would meet again. 

* * *

The horses pulled to a halt in front of the beautiful castle at the center of Camelot.

A knight came forward and helped Queen Hunith and young Emrys who had been riding in front of her, down to the ground. King Uther stepped forward with a welcoming smile, reaching out to hold her hand in his own.

“Queen Hunith, you are as lovely as ever.” The queen returned the friendly smile, inclining her head in the respectful nod between fellow monarchs.

She squeezed his hand gently. “And you as well, Uther. Camelot is as beautiful as I remember it.”

They spoke briefly of the ride, while their children shuffled and twitched impatiently behind their legs. Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years to the tiny princes, Hunith directed her attention to the other member of royalty waiting to greet them.

“And who might this strapping young man be?” Prince Arthur stood up straight and proud. “Why, it must be young Prince Arthur, no doubt.”

Uther smiled benevolently, “Welcome to our fair kingdom, dear Hunith. And to you as well, Prince Emrys. Go on, Arthur,” He gently pushed his son forward. “Go on.”

Looking none too pleased, Arthur shuffled towards their guests. “Your majesty.” He barely had to bend over to kiss Hunith’s hand. She smiled at him, quite pleased. “Thank you for coming.” And then he turned to the other prince. “Hello, prince Emrys. I am very pleased to meet you.” He held his hand out and the two of them clasped arms, while eyeing each other. “I am glad you have come.”

Emrys was thin, but face round with youth. Fair skin and a mess of curly black hair. The main thing Arthur noticed was his eyes that seemed to take up his whole face, wide and guileless. It made him seem rather dim and naive. And those ears! They were huge!

“Pleased to meet you as well, Prince Arthur. I am happy to be here.” The words sounded rehearsed and stilted, like he was unsure if he truly meant them. Emrys couldn’t help but notice Arthur’s golden hair that shone brightly in the sun. But also the way his mouth twisted, obviously not actually pleased in any way, shape or form to meet him. Kind of like he was sucking on a lemon. 

Their parents on the other hand seemed incredibly pleased and smiled at each other before beginning to walk up the castle stairs, obviously expecting them to follow. The two leaders began to discuss the boring adult things that neither royal child much cared for yet. Instead, Arthur turned to his guest and tried to salvage as much as he could from what might be a very long summer. The other prince was looking everywhere, big eyes taking in the castle’s structure, comparing it to his own when he was interrupted by the other prince’s loud voice.

“Do you like to hunt?”

Emrys’ face twisted into a grimace. “No way. I don’t need to hunt. I have enough to eat.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “But what about when it’s for fun?”

Those big blue eyes narrowed. “What is fun about killing animals?” For Emrys could hear the voices of the wild creatures of the forests and rivers if he listened hard and long enough.

Arthur scowled, crossing his arms. “It just is.” He looked away from his guest, feeling his stomach sink but he tried yet again. “What about sparring?”

Emrys’ eyebrows furrowed. “Sparring?”

Arthur straightened, voice lifting with enthusiasm. “You know, fighting? Wrestling? Boxing? Dueling?”

The other boy’s face twisted up into another exaggerated expression of distaste. “What is the fun in that?”

Arthur threw his hands up. “I don’t know. It just is!” He was already losing patience with this whole thing.

_I can’t believe I’m stuck with him all summer_, he thought to himself.

Emrys eyed the other prince, wondering what kind of boy would enjoy such violent activities.

_He looks so conceited and spoiled_, he thought to himself.

They simultaneously thought, _If I’m lucky, I’ll get chicken pox._

That set the tone for the rest of the summer. And many of the summers afterwards.

Every day they found something else to dislike about the other. Arthur shoved Emrys once and then it was like a dam had been broken. They pushed and pulled. Bickered and screamed. It seemed as though they had nothing in common, nothing but how much they disliked each other and dreaded each morning when they would be forcibly put together for much of the day.

Arthur learned how to torture his fellow prince with the killing of insects, showing off the carcasses of his hunted prey, shoving them into his guest’s face. He would yank on Emrys’ ears, and run away laughing before the other could reciprocate. But, of course, Emrys had something Arthur didn’t; magic. And though he’d been told not to on many occasions, he used it to trip the prince up, to turn his hair bright colors, to make him move like he was walking through thick mud. Arthur would then curse magic and magic users, which only made Emrys more wary and angry with him.

Thinking it to be nothing but childhood mischief, the monarchs shared meals and talked about how pleased they were. “The children seem to get along quite nicely.” Uther declared, taking a sip of wine. “And I’m sure it will only get better with time.” He said nothing of his faint reservations about Emrys’ magical ways. The benefits far outweighed the problems such an ability caused. Plus, Emrys was of a noble breed and therefore would be trained heavily in how to control his powers unlike the common riff raff.

Hunith hummed in agreement. “Our kingdoms will become one in no time at all.”

“So, we are in agreement?” Uther asked, wishing to make it official.

“Of course!” She smiled. “They will make a lovely couple one day. They test each other, challenge one another. But, I know they’ll find things in common as well. And the kingdom their union will create will flourish with them as its rulers.” The two monarchs clinked their goblets together. “To our children and the future of our kingdom.”

The next few summers were full of the same bickering between the children, the same naive hope between rulers.

Arthur ran quickly through the grassy field, followed closely behind by his friend, Kay.

And even further behind by Emrys who shouted incomprehensible words at them. It sounded a lot like ‘wait up!’

Arthur laughed breathlessly and Kay laughed in reply. The two of them reached their destination, a ramshackle treehouse, built by a combination of their own imagination and the knight’s magnanimousness (Also Uther’s command). They quickly climbed the rope ladder before, hurriedly pulling it up into the safety of their base just as Emrys reached the bottom of the tree. They peeked out of their window, grinning down at the prince’s put out expression.

“Take a hint, Ear-mrys!” Arthur shouted. “We don’t want you around!”

Emrys stomped his foot, crossing his arms over his chest to try and hide his heaving breath. “It’s not like I’m a big fan of your stupid face either!”

“Then go away!” Kay called down.

Arthur nudged his friend, “Yeah! No girls allowed! Especially, not ones with magic!”

Emrys scowled at that. “That’s so dumb. You’re dumb. This isn’t nice or fair.”

The two boys in the tree exchanged a look of satisfaction. Arthur shrugged dramatically. “So what? Are you going to cry about it, Em?”

Emrys’ glare could literally light fires. But, instead he kicked the tree’s trunk, shaking with rage. The magic within him jumped to his defense, shaking the entire tree, pulling nails from planks and breaking branches until the entire treehouse fell apart. All three kids yelled as they were buried in the debris.

That fateful third summer ended with several broken bones, bruises and splinters that Gaius patched up, scolding them harshly all the while. Everyone was grounded and no one was happy. Many apologies were said under duress. 

* * *

With each turning of the seasons, the young princes grew and changed.

Arthur began to truly study everything he would need to be king one day, reading books about history, geography, strategy, diplomacy...he even found time to read books of poetry between training to be a knight and found he quite liked it, even as he kept that fact hidden. Emrys spent more and more time practicing his magic, outside in nature. He had tutors from all around the world come to give him lessons. He also found he quite enjoyed falconry, speaking and training with the birds more than the actual hunting itself.

It was Arthur who upon visiting Repisoul for their fourth summer together began to call him Merlin.

Arthur stepped into the avian house, hearing Emrys' voice as he spoke softly to the hunting birds around him.

“Just tilt your head that way, please.” Pause. “Thank you. That looks wonderful.”

Arthur noted the way the black feathered falcon seemed to preen at the warlock’s compliment. Emrys’ head was bent, shoulders hunched over a sketchbook, hand flying across the parchment as he drew. “I’ve been looking for you for hours, Em,” Arthur complained. Emrys’ head shot up, and his expression changed from wide eyed surprise to annoyed once he registered who it was. “Of course I find you here, talking to birds.”

“So sorry to inconvenience you, your royal pratliness.” Arthur merely rolled his eyes and leaned over obnoxiously into the other’s space to get a look at what he’d been drawing. It was quite good. Not that he’d ever say such a thing. “What is that? A self portrait?”

Emrys scoffed. “No. It’s the bird.” He gestured at the merlin. Arthur squinted at it, looking back and forth between the parchment and its real life counterpart. Then back up at Emrys. They had the same dark black ‘feathers’ that seemed to always be sticking out everywhere. The same eyes that were always watching, observing and judging. The bird took that moment to cry out, loud and obnoxious so close to his ear and Arthur jerked away. Emrys hardly even blinked. But, he was also rather loud and obnoxious, wasn’t he?

Arthur rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “I don't know. I’d have to say it looks a lot like you,” he grinned. “Merlin.”

Emrys raised an eyebrow. “It _is_ a merlin.”

Arthur stood and put a hand out to help the other prince to his feet. “Whatever. We’re off to do whatever boring thing my father wishes us to do.” Emrys glowered up at him. Arthur wiggled his fingers. “Come on, _Merlin_.” With a sigh, he slipped his hand into Arthur’s and let himself be pulled upwards.

Perhaps it was meant to be mean at first as so many of his other ‘nicknames’ but, unlike so many of the other names Emrys never tried to stop it. And so it was that those closest to the young prince called him Merlin.

His mother of course was one who did for she was the one he went to when he was afraid or lonely. She laughed easily despite the burden of the crown alone on her head, caressing his cheek and kissing his forehead. “My darling, my Merlin.”

But, also his best friend Guinevere, who he had also grown up with, running around with her and reading books together during every season that wasn’t summer. She'd taught him to sew, how to climb trees, took him to the best places to swim. She would laugh and hold his hand and spin him around, put flowers in his hair. Encourage him when he was unsure. “Come on, Merlin. You know you can do it. You’ve done it before.” She would say and she was always right.

The noble lady Morgana, Arthur’s cousin, became a confidant who he wrote letters back and forth over the years. And when he visited Camelot, the two of them would do magic together. Exchanging secrets and tips, “No, no. Like THIS, Merlin.” Morgana called, twisting her hands over his.

He found he also loved to speak with the Princesses Mithian and Elena, who were clever and unconventional.

“Dear Merlin, how fares your kingdom? I did so love it when I visited.”

“Is it true that the horses in Repisoul are faster than Camelot’s? Will you let me ride one, Merlin, please?”

He was close with several of his knights like Gwaine, Lancelot and Gwen’s brother, Elyan. Enough to call them friends. And enough for them to call him by his nickname. Gaius, Camelot’s court physician, had taught him much about healing and always offered someplace safe from Arthur’s tormenting. He often considered Gaius to be something of an uncle and they exchanged long letters the rest of the year they were apart. The old man usually only used ‘Emrys’ when he’d done something wrong to be lectured about. Even Will, the stable master’s son had become a close confidant in his life.

And Arthur, of course. 

But, for the most part he found joy and comfort among women (not in a romantic or sexual way). He loved how they talked, their jokes and laughter, their creativity and solutions to ideas that would have stumped the men he knew. They helped him be truer to himself. Let him try their clothes, makeup and jewelry until he found the things he liked.

It was perhaps for this reason that when he visited Camelot the year he turned seventeen, Arthur gawped at him like he had grown a second head.

Merlin looked very different from the summer before. Where he’d been stuffed into uncomfortable doublets, self conscious and hunched over, all long limbs and clumsiness.

Now, he sat upon his horse with a posture of pride. With dangling earrings in the lobes of his large ears, he wore flowing robes and a circlet of silver that had once been his mother’s. Merlin's lips had been darkened with rouge and faint shadow painted over his eyelids. He dismounted with help from Arthur who continued to stare at him with some unnameable emotion.

They did the normal pleasantries, the welcomes and how-do-you-dos, all while Arthur thought, ignoring the elephant in the room of Merlin looking like THAT. He’d grown taller, broader, with a distinct lack of pimples or other common teenage problems.

It was just...unfair, was what it was.

Arthur had also grown taller and broader. He’d gained calluses from swords and crossbows. Had learned patience from the long hours of sitting in on council meetings and the despair of seeing his people in pain as they came forward to beg for his father’s assistance.

But despite all these changes, it still turned out to be a rather similar summer to the ones that had come before it. With plenty of arguing and annoyance to go around. Of course now, rather than running around through the fields, throwing mud and playing pranks, they spent their time on other pursuits. When not discussing their kingdoms or the relationships between the two, they were often reading, doing school work. Arthur still training to be a knight. Merlin still learning magic. Arthur made fun of Merlin for such efforts, calling him degrading names, with a barely hidden condescension for his gifts. He was blissfully unaware of how his words affected Merlin, assuming it to be just another form of their rivalry. Emrys fought back by claiming knightly callings to be for the thick and dimwitted.

When not doing things that were seen as vital to learning to rule a kingdom one day, they were still not so conspicuously shoved together. Always a step away from being literally locked into rooms with one another. With a lackof anything better to do, Arthur challenged Merlin to every kind of game he had; chess, checkers, cards.

Merlin laid his hand across the wooden table. “I think I’ve won again.”

Arthur only had to glance at the cards to see that yes, yes he had. For the 36th time.

Arthur grabbed the card deck and tossed it across the room. He then proceeded to feel very much like an idiot as they merely fluttered to the ground in a mess he knew he’d have to pick up himself.

Merlin sat across the table from him, looking very unimpressed. “Well done, clotpole.”

Kay snickered from the corner of the room. Arthur just put his head in his hands.

Another thing that was different was,

“He keeps flirting with them!” Arthur hissed, as he hid behind the stone corner, glowering at the sight before him. Merlin, dressed in resplendent purple, jewels in his ears and silver at his throat, kohl lined eyes lowered as he laughed at something the guard was saying. Arthur didn’t even remember the name of the guy. He was fairly new and not that good looking.

Kay yawned pointedly. “We’ve been standing here for nearly 30 minutes, Arthur. He's just _talking _to the guy. Calm down.”

Arthur tore his eyes away from Merlin’s long fingers as they touched the guard’s chest, to glare at his friend. “Are you _kidding_ me? He is _obviously_ flirting.”

Kay shrugged. “So what if he is? I thought you didn’t even like him.”

Arthur’s shoulders hunched up around his ears. “I _don't_!” He swallowed. “But… we’ve always… they’ve always said that we’re going to get married one day. If he’s supposed to be my husband why is he doing...doing that?”

Kay raised an auburn eyebrow. “And _you've _always said that it would never happen. That you’d rather die than marry Merlin.”

Arthur’s face turned a rather nasty shade of red and purple. “I was a kid. What if...what if we _do _get married? My father really wants it to happen. It _would_ be very beneficial to our kingdoms...I just,” He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.” He turned back to look at what was _absolutely flirting_ only to find Merlin _right there_. The older prince yelled and nearly fell backwards, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there.

Merlin merely tilted his head to the side. Like one of those bloody birds of his. “Spying on me again, your highness?”

Arthur stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Of course not. Merely passing through.”

Merlin’s expression made it known that he did not believe that for one second. “Uh huh.” He swept past the two, dark purple robes swirling around his legs with the movements of his hips. “I was led to believe that subterfuge meant you needed to be quiet. Perhaps, give that a shot next time, turnip head.” And then he was gone before Arthur could gather his thoughts enough to create a decent comeback.

* * *

It was only three days before Prince Emrys’ 17th birthday that Arthur got the chance to speak with him again.

The festivities were taking up everyone’s time, servants running to and fro, placing decorations. People were coming to Camelot from far and wide to celebrate the prince's life.

Arthur still had no idea what to even get the moron. One would think after knowing someone for years it would be easier to pick out a present, but he still was full of a quiet kind of anxiety.

Camelot's prince caught Merlin as he was walking through the garden pathways, fingers trailing along flower petals and leaves. He was bending forward, as though to smell them. But, Arthur saw his lips move and knew he was talking to them. It had always been something he’d done. Speak to the nature around them like it could understand and talk back. The birds, bees, flowers, fish, trees...you name it and Arthur could bet that Merlin had had a lovely conversation about the weather with it. It was just another thing that made Merlin stand out, made him so bizarre and...well, fascinating.

Not that Arthur would ever admit that.

From here he could see the rings on Merlin’s long, pale fingers. The silver chain around his neck. The stones in his ears. None of the jewelry was gaudy. Far from it. It was subtle and complimented his outfit. Except they drew Arthur’s eyes towards them as if they had been ostentatious. Every time they were together, his eyes fell upon to silver as it draped across sharp collarbones, rings around long, elegant hands. It drove Arthur quietly mad with wanting to know, to understand. What had changed? What was different?

It wasn’t like men never wear jewelry. His father had his crests and royal gems for special occasions and ceremonies. Arthur had his Mother's ring. It was just that the jewelry Merlin wore was not the same. They were decorative, sure, and Arthur doubted that they lacked significance. There was just something different about the way Merlin wore them, the way he acted, and moved and spoke. Merlin no longer seemed small and uncomfortable the way he once had been. He didn’t seem to hide behind big naive eyes or clumsy movements. He’d blossomed, and that had surprised Arthur. Shook him to his core.

He stepped forward, crunching over gravel. Merlin looked up at him, then back down at the flowers under his fingertips.

“Hello, your highness,” The prince called. As always, the way Merlin said it made it sound like an insult. Arthur had long since stopped being insulted and instead found it rather amusing.

“Merlin,” Arthur said in return. They stood quietly for a while, before simultaneously turning to keep walking down the path. The falling sun caught on the ring on Merlin’s finger as he touched a passing lily. “You wear a lot of jewelry.”

The other prince paused and looked at him. Then back at the flower under his touch. “I guess so.”

“And uh, make up?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, mockingly. “That is what it is, yes. Look at you, using your words.”

It fell out of his mouth before he could stop and think; “That’s pretty girly, isn’t it?”

Merlin froze. Arthur stopped too, wanting to take the sword from its sheath and fall upon it.

Prince Emrys turned to him, eyes flashing, voice rumbling as thunder. “One, it is stones and metal. The same thing our crowns are made out of. The same thing your swords are. They come from the earth. Two, I’m not a girl. So obviously, it is not ‘girly’. Three, women are incredible. My mother, the queen is a woman. Your mother was. Half of the kingdom is made up of women and girls. They are all worthwhile and often more intelligent than most of the men I know. I find no insult in being called one. Four, they were given as gifts. I love them. And five, it sounds as though you have some personal problems to work through, Prince Arthur, if something as simple as jewelry or makeup can make you stare at me as if I’ve transformed into a stranger.”

With that he turned and stalked away, head held high. Arthur rather wanted to sink into the ground. He glanced down at the lily and pressed his own fingers to the petals, imagining he could feel the heat of the other's touch.

Merlin had always confused him, challenging him at every turn. And Arthur always made mistakes. Sighing, he began the walk back towards the castle.

* * *

Prince Emrys turned seventeen with much fanfare; food and dancing, gifts and laughter. He wore robes of deep sapphire that turned his eyes a deeper blue and made his hair seem to carry hints of the color as well. It was only later in the evening, after many guests have gone to sleep, that Arthur was able to approach Merlin.

“Would you please accompany me to the gardens, your highness?”

Unsure at first, Merlin took a second to look over Arthur’s face, searching for any hints of mischief. Finding none, he nodded. Arthur hesitantly offered his arm. Merlin raised an eyebrow, and rolled his eyes but eventually slipped his arm through Arthur’s.

From afar, Hunith and Uther exchanged pleased glances as they watched their children exit the ballroom.

The night sky was darkening like soaked blue cloth, heavy with building rain.

They strolled along the pathways as they had a few nights before, looking at the colorful blooms. Crickets chirped and sang, pausing only when the two got too close before piping up again. Arthur noticed how Merlin looked more relaxed among the vines and stems than the crowds of people.

Finally, he cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. From it he pulled a velvet box and held it out for the other to take. “Happy birthday, Merlin,” Arthur announced, waiting with anxious anticipation for the prince’s reaction.

Merlin pulled away to open the box’s lid and gasped softly. Inside was a necklace, gold rather than silver. It had a sturdy chain and was attached to a beautifully sculpted bird; a falcon. A merlin. He pressed the tips of his fingers to the charm, as he had the flower petals. “It’s… it’s beautiful.” He looked up at Arthur then, letting a big grin take over his face.

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat because he’d seen that expression before. But, it had hardly ever been directed at him. It was warm and joyful, sparkling eyes and smile lines. Arthur suddenly wanted to do all that he could to keep that look on Merlin’s face. He paused to gather his courage. “Also, I’m… I apologize for what I said before. I swear that despite how I used to be, I did not intend to offend you.”

Merlin watched him, smile growing and changing; soft to one full of humor. “I know, you clotpole. Apology accepted.”

In response, Arthur grinned, nudging the other prince until they began moving again. It was quiet for a few minutes before he spoke up. “Feel free to… to punch me, I guess, but can I ask you...?”

“Go on,” Merlin replied,magnanimously.

“Why did you… you’re right in that you are still the same person, Merlin. Still stubborn, magical, clever, annoying.” At this, Merlin elbowed him, Arthur grinning for a moment before it faded. “But, you’re also… you ARE different. You stand taller. You seem more… more.” Arthur shrugged, awful with words. “Does that have something to do with the…” His words faded away, unsure entirely if they would offend him again.

Merlin sighed. “You mean the jewelry and makeup.” Arthur nodded. “I like wearing them.” He paused to look at Arthur carefully, like he was searching him for something. Camelot’s prince kept his face open and tried to exude trustworthiness. It must have worked because Merlin’s full lips curled up at the corner before he looked down at the ground. “I’m not offended by being called a girl. But, I am not one.” Arthur opened his mouth to say that he knew this, of course he did, only to shut it when Merlin continued. “But, I might not be a boy either.”

Confusion reigned again. Arthur’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” He asked, slowly and unsure.

Merlin shrugged, but it was jerky like he was also uncomfortable. “It just...it just seems so small. Right? I could be a boy. Or a girl. Sometimes I guess I feel as though I could be one or the other. Or both, even. Or neither. And sometimes, a _lot_ of the time, I feel like something else entirely. Something new and, and different.” Arthur noted how his voice wavered. “I just, I look at things like, I don’t know, war or peace, death and life, time, nature...or magic itself. And they’re so, so _big_.” Merlin looked up at Arthur, face full of something unnameable. “I...I feel closer to a tree. To the buzz of magic in my veins. Than, than to being a boy.” Merlin was shaking with emotion.

Arthur wanted nothing more than to understand. But, it was difficult. He didn’t _know _how Merlin felt. He had always been alright with being a man, had never questioned it. Arthur looked at the distant windows of his castle, the turrets and the people within it.

And he thought, _‘Perhaps...’ _

“I don’t know if it’s the same... It most definitely isn’t. But, sometimes I feel as though the crown on my head, the kingdom below my feet… is bigger than any part of me. This duty is more important than ANYTHING. It is more my identity than anything else. I am prince first, a leader and then a man.” He looked back at Merlin who was staring at him with dark, watery eyes.

Clearing his throat, Arthur reached for the box. “May I?”

Merlin’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Of course.”

With only slightly shaking fingers, the prince of Camelot unhooked the tiny clasp and lifted the chain, circling the other’s throat with the cool metal. It took a few seconds of embarrassed fumbling before it was secure. He stepped back out of Merlin’s body heat.

The younger prince touched the bird at his throat. “It really is beautiful, Arthur. Thank you.”

Arthur swallowed. “You’re welcome.”

Merlin looked at Arthur and felt something stirring deep in his soul. Something like hope, like admiration.

Arthur held his arm out and Merlin took it. They walked through the garden some more, just to talk of unimportant things and enjoy each other’s company, perhaps in a way they never had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Repisoul is an anagram of Perilous...jsyk~  
Originally I wanted to have this written for Merthur Marry Month but, at my pace it just isn't realistic, so have this first part.  
I THINK...maybe five chapters??


	2. Summer Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin's relationship grows and a long awaited plan of revenge begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd and looked over by rainbowdolphinsattack, watachiwanekokawaidesu and ofmagicandmusic. Thank you all!

Another year, another summer.

This one was particularly hot and humid. Arthur was finally close to completing his knightly training. As such, he spent every free minute he had sparring.

This usually meant that Merlin was also close by, chatting with the knights, or laughing at Arthur in turn. This day was no different. What _was_ different was the way Arthur's blood began to boil.

Perhaps it was due to the pleased flush on Merlin face when one of the knights clapped a big hand over his shoulder. Or maybe the way Merlin’s laughter seemed especially loud and mocking today.

Whatever it was, Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow and called out, ”_Mer_lin! Why don’t you go be useless somewhere else for a change?”

The younger prince glowered, turning his head to speak quickly to Lancelot. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world and not something he'd never done before in the entirety of the time he'd known Merlin, he stepped onto the training ground.

Bewildered, Arthur could only watch as Merlin marched right up to him. With an infuriating smirk, Merlin lifted his chin. “I’ll fight you next.”

Arthur laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d heard all day. And it kind of was. “_You_? I could take you apart with one blow.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, cool and collected. “I could take you apart with less than that.”

Something in Arthur’s stomach dropped then turned in a hot swirl as he stared into Merlin’s eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

The knights surrounding them were restless, already making bets as they stepped out of the arena.

“Come on, then!” One yelled.

Another laughed and cheered, “Fight!”

Arthur gritted his teeth and readied his sword. “No magic.”

Lancelot handed Merlin his own sword from its sheath. The prince hefted the blade and tested its balance in his hand as though he actually knew what he was doing. “Afraid?”

Arthur scoffed. “Of you? I’ve been training to kill since birth.”

Merlin grinned, thrown off by the banter. “There’s an image. Baby Arthur, swinging your deadly rattle as you parade around a playpen, in chainmail nappies.” The knights all laughed, and Arthur’s face turned red. “If you’ve been training to kill since birth, how long have you been training to be a prat?”

Arthur stepped into a ready position. “You can’t talk to me that way, _Me_rlin.”

Merlin relaxed into his own fighting stance, but took the time to bow mockingly to his fellow prince. “You’re right. I’m sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat,” He looked up at his opponent through his lashes. “_My Lord_?”

Another spear of heat went through Arthur. But he smiled, standing tall for the benefit of his men who surrounded them. “Come on then!” Camelot’s prince called and nearly jumped when Merlin obeyed, swiping his blade against Arthur’s in a loud clang. Arthur pressed back and they began. He was astonished with Merlin’s footwork, the way he swung his sword, the surety behind his actions.

Arthur was strong, had spent years training to become one of the greatest fighters in the kingdom. Merlin was fast, and adapted quickly to Arthur’s strategies. They danced around each other, neither quite gaining the upper hand.

“Where did you learn to fight?” Arthur called, ducking away from a swift jab.

Merlin grinned like a very beautiful fool. “Just because I don’t like to fight, doesn’t mean I can’t.”

The minutes passed with their men cheering for each of them. Sweat dripped down reddening faces. Merlin’s speed began to lag, Arthur’s strength fading. With one last burst of effort, Merlin knocked Arthur’s sword from his sweaty hand, then pressed his blade against the other’s chest.

“Do you give up?” Merlin cried. Arthur glared, panting. He couldn’t coax any embarrassment into himself, only a hot kind of admiration for the way Merlin looked with pink cheeks and a sword, sure in his hand.

“To _you_?” He scoffed and shook his head. “Not today.”

Arthur dropped low, beneath the blade before sprinting forward and taking the other prince out at the knees before he could react.

“Oof!” They tumbled backwards, Arthur prying the sword from Merlin’s loose fingers and jumping to his feet to press the blade back above Merlin’s heart. The knights went wild around them, a mix of cheers and boos.

Merlin’s stunned face grew into a huge grin. “Well done, your highness.” And yes, it sounded like an insult. But, a fond one.

Arthur grinned back and reached down to offer a hand up to his guest. Merlin’s fingers curled around Arthur’s, gripping tightly. Arthur pulled and soon they were on level ground again, smiling at each other. The rest of the rowdy knights faded away until felt like there was only the two of them. Merlin’s hair was always a mess and strands of it stuck to his sweaty forehead.

Arthur reached up and pushed the hair aside, curling them around an overlarge ear. Arthur’s smile turned softer.

“There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Merlin tilted his head into the touch. “I have been told I’m an enigma wrapped in a riddle.”

“That you are, my friend. That you are.”

They got lectured by Gaius and their parents for their bruises and cuts, of course. But the looks they kept exchanging,the feeling of being like conspiring criminals, made up for it. 

* * *

On Arthur’s 20th birthday, Queen Hunith and Prince Emrys came to Camelot despite it not being Summer.

This birthday was a special occasion, as Arthur would be officially crowned and named Prince of Camelot. Merlin had never seen the castle in the spring before. The kingdom was bright green and blooming with life everywhere he looked.

They reached the castle and as they had every time before, the King and soon to be Crown Prince stepped forward to greet their guests. And like every time before, Uther kissed Hunith’s hand and shook Merlin’s. There were pleasantries and questions about the trip.

But, unlike every other time before, Arthur could not take his eyes off of Merlin. He’d noticed before how his friend had been growing up, changing and becoming more of himself. But, this…

Merlin had become something utterly ethereal. He carried himself with pride and confidence. The setting sun shone across high cheekbones and lashes cast long shadows when he blinked. The things he’d first noticed as children remained; big, blue eyes that he once thought to be naive and guileless, now seemed kind and watchful, and those ears! They remained seemingly large but now Arthur found them fey, something that if taken away, would make Merlin’s face feel less. Merlin remained tall, lanky, but had built up muscle. And his body was draped in white, around his neck swung the pendant Arthur had given him. His lips were painted Pendragon red, eyes lined with kohl.

And he was smiling. Amused at Arthur’s obvious gawking. Arthur cleared his throat and tried to stand up a bit straighter and not look like he’d just been mooning. He stepped forward to grip Merlin’s forearm the way he had in the past, only to hesitate and instead bend and bring the other’s hand to his mouth and carefully press his lips against the back. He looked up, warily into Merlin’s eyes, hoping he hadn’t offended.

Merlin’s expression was surprised but it soon faded. He curled his fingers under Arthur’s chin. “Hello, Prince Arthur.” He murmured, face soft with some unnameable emotion.

“Hello, Merlin.” Their eyes met and held for what was probably only a few seconds but felt like an eternity.

In that time, Merlin had seen into Arthur’s being. He’d known the prince since he was a baby. Had grown up with him during Summers as children running through fields and playing pretend. They’d teased and taunted, physically injured each other. He had felt intense dislike almost from the outset of their meeting. Nothing had ever come easy between them. But, recently things had become better. Or even, glorious, if he was being honest. They’d begun to speak softer to each other, to try and understand the other’s perspective.

Merlin had seen Arthur at his worst; arrogant, quick to anger, spoiled. And he’d seen him at his best; loyal, determined, hard working, and vulnerable. In him, Merlin could see a king. A great one. One who cared for his people above anything. It was in his actions, his words and above all, how the people around Arthur loved him. Merlin wondered when he’d become one of them. He didn’t think it possible to trace to an exact point.

They smiled at each other, soft and full of joy to be meeting again. 

It was only later at the ball, given to celebrate Arthur’s birth and his soon to be crowning, that Arthur walked up to his fated prince. He did not fail to notice how everyone was watching Merlin. Once they had found him gangly, awkward, cute at best. Now, he was utterly stunning. It seemed that Merlin knew it, for he shone with confidence, practically hummed with allure. That smile when he noticed Arthur approaching him was lethal.

With an offered hand and a big grin in return, Arthur took Merlin into his arms. They danced around the room, drawing every eye, steps syncing easily. Merlin had nearly always been clumsy and Arthur didn’t doubt he would remain that way. But, in this moment the other prince moved with ease, having grown into his long limbs. Arthur was usually distracted, thinking of anything besides the frivolity of dancing, but tonight he couldn’t look away from the person before him, unable to believe how he’d never truly noticed before how wonderful he was. The song ended with a final longing note and they bowed to each other, barely noticing the crowds’ applause. Merlin’s cheeks were pink with exertion, bashfulness and joy.

Arthur thought he had never seen anything more beautiful. He brushed his thumb across Merlin’s cheek, who turned his face into the touch.

“May I...” Arthur hesitated, Merlin merely smiled encouragingly.“May I kiss you?”

Merlin’s face split into a grin and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against Arthur’s. He placed a hand on Merlin’s cheek, and the other around his hip, drawing him closer, deepening the kiss. Merlin’s lips parted beneath his, his tongue flicking daringly at Arthur’s as he curled one arm around Arthur’s back and clenched the other in his tunic over a shoulder.

Time had led them to this; a soft kiss that turned more heated as it went on. Once childish enemies, and now they’d grown into people that found something wonderful in each other.

Merlin bit back a moan as he felt teeth nip his top lip. Arthur would’ve gladly repeated the experiment over and over again, only his bliss was interrupted by the sound of a lady-like giggle. He became immediately aware of their audience and with one last soft kiss to Merlin’s swollen mouth, pulled away. With a soft sigh, Merlin’s eyes opened, dark with feeling. They smiled at each other and knew their feelings to be mutual.

Arthur brushed a soft strand of hair from Merlin’s forehead and then curled their fingers together. He led his partner to their parents who are sitting at the head table, Gaius a few seats down.

“Father, your majesty.” He looked first at Merlin then at their parents. “I know you’ve been hoping for the two of us to decide to marry. And I’d like to agree. I would marry Prince Emrys.”

Their parents looked immediately overjoyed. Or rather Hunith looked overjoyed. Uther was reservedly pleased. Merlin’s face slipped into an expression of uncertainty. He interrupted their exultation.

“Wait,” He withdrew his hand from Arthur’s. All three royals turned to him.

Arthur searched Merlin’s face. “What is it? You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

Merlin smiled softly. “Thank you, Arthur. But, I...” He stopped, unsure if he wanted to press at something he’d only just realized he kind of wanted with an overwhelming hunger. But, then knew he had to know. Or else it would haunt him when he could not sleep. “Why do you want to marry me?”

Arthur blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?” A bubbling anxiety began in his stomach.

“I mean,” Merlin hesitated for only a second. “We used to hate each other. It’s only recently that we’ve begun to...to...” He fought down a blush and made an ungraceful gesture that tried to encompass the entirety of romantic expression. “I mean, you’ve said so many terrible things about magic and that is who I am down to my very bones. You’ve called me names and teased me endlessly.” Merlin’s face fell as he began to realize truly how far they’d come and yet how close it all was still. Then he shook himself and stood up straight and tall. “So, I ask you, your royal highness, why would you wish to marry me?”

Arthur’s entire soul wanted to leave his body. He often felt as though he should give up speaking for it never seemed to heed his true thoughts. And besides, how could he put into words...everything he’d ever felt for Merlin. How could he encompass the feelings of watching him grow, his laughter and wit, the way he never backed down, never treated Arthur as someone to praise for the sake of praise; an equal in every way. Merlin spoke his mind, had clawed his way into Arthur’s respect and had stayed there. Merlin was Good and Kind, intelligent and considerate. He was loved by his people and he loved them in return. He was everything Arthur figured he could ever want in a partner, someone to spend his mortal life with.

Arthur wanted to say all this. What sputtered out of his mouth instead was, “Well, you’re...you’re very beautiful.”

It was a precious thing that fell to the floor and shattered, bumped by his clumsy words. Merlin’s face twisted up in the way that Arthur didn’t even know he’d memorized, the expression that meant disappointment.

“Is that...is that all?” Merlin asked, voice stiff with his own hidden thoughts. Half of Arthur wanted to keep talking, to stumble through a speech that would fix this. The other half of him saw the disappointment on Merlin’s face and crawled away to die, leaving only a self preservation instinct, to save his pride, to defend his words.

“Well, what _else_ is there?” 

Merlin’s disappointment sunk beneath a familiar anger towards the clotpole in front of him. “'_What else_'? What about friendship? Admiration? Respect?” He stopped, ignoring how his whole body had suddenly began to shake and his voice fell softer. “Love?”

Arthur found his tongue heavy, mouth refused to move. He felt utterly helpless, unable to communicate, to proclaim everything he felt for his oldest and dearest friend. Instead, he went blank with panic as Merlin’s eyes sparkled with angry tears and glints of golden magic. He could only watch as his best friend, the one he loved, turned on his heel and stormed away. People jumped from his path, maybe sensing the roiling storm beneath his skin.

Feeling incompetent, Arthur stretched out a hand as if he could somehow reach Merlin that way. The other prince vanished through the open doors, with other guests beginning to murmur and gossip. His arm fell uselessly to his side.

Queen Hunith gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Just let him calm down, Arthur. I’m sure you can work this out.” He placed his hand over hers and nodded, unable to speak. She smiled softly, just like her son. “I’ll try and speak with him.” Then she was gone in a flurry of copper skirts, Repisoul’s royal guards trailing along behind. Arthur stared after them, an unnameable ache in his chest.

Next to him, his father let their arms brush together. “Perhaps, it is simply not meant to be.” Uther said. Arthur felt his words like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t accept the idea that he might have lost Merlin.

Gaius stepped up on his other side. “‘_What else is there_?’”

Arthur put his face in his hands. Gaius need not say more, the tone of his voice and The Eyebrow was enough to truly emphasize how big a mistake he’d just made. “I know! I’m such an idiot.”

Gaius patted his arm. “You do not truly admire just his beauty.”

“Of course not, Gaius!” His heart climbed into his throat. “He’s like....you know. And...just...And then! Right?” His pulse thrummed as he stumbled, trying to find the words. Gaius’ eyebrow judged him. “I don’t know how to say it!” He looked back at the doors where Merlin had vanished.

An idea occurred to him, glowing and growing until it showed on his face. “I’ll prove it to him. Somehow, I’ll prove my love!” He’d always believed in actions over words, and he knew if he could come up with something good enough, Merlin would have to see it! The way his love for him shone from Arthur's very soul. 

* * *

Merlin ran out into the darkening evening. The night felt humid and heavy around him, signaling approaching rain. Once the lights of the castle had turned into small dancing candle flames in the distance, he forced himself to stop and take deep breaths. Quietly, he could hear his mother and guards calling his name. 

In just a second, he would speak out and grab their attention. For now, he sat in the dewy grass, pressed a hand to the nearest tree and gave his magic over to the world for a second.

The world rushed up to meet him, warm and understanding, the way it had always been. It rejuvenated him and calmed his mind so that when he came back to his body he could think clearly.

“Oh Arthur, you turnip head.” He murmured. For he _knew_ the other prince. Knew his ticks and habits, his secrets, the things that made him good, and the flaws. Oh so many flaws. Merlin sighed, knowing that Arthur did not only value his high cheekbones and the shape of his lips. It was just that he struggled to speak what was in his very heart. Knew that it was because he had never had to. That he was expected to stay silent on such personal and vulnerable matters.

“Merlin!” His mother’s hand curled over his shoulder. “Are you alright?” She panted, kneeling down next to him in her skirts.

He jumped to his feet, pulling her up by her hands. “Oh, mother! Your dress!” He began to try and brush the bits of dirt and dead plants from the expensive fabric. She laughed softly and caught his face between her palms.

Distantly, Merlin noted their guards as they caught up. One was holding a pair of heels. He looked down at Hunith’s feet, covered as they were by her dress. “Are you barefoot?”

“Maybe.” She winked at him. Merlin grinned back at her. “Are you alright, my dear?”

Merlin nodded. “Just....” He sighed explosively. “He’s such a moron.”

Hunith brushed the hair back from his forehead. “Men often are.” She examined his face for a second. “How do you feel for him?”

A faint blush stole over pale cheeks. “I think I love him, mama.”

Hunith grinned. “That is wonderful! We’ve been hoping this would happen.” She sensed there was more though. “What is it,cariad?”

Merlin shrugged, unsure how to fully articulate what he felt. “I know him, mama. I know he’s terrible at saying what he means sometimes. But,” He looked back at the distant castle, its beauty stunning him even from afar. “Some of what I said is still true. And I want to be sure. I want to be sure that he...” He licked his lips and looked back at her. “That he loves me for who I am.” Magic, gender, stubbornness and all. 

Hunith opened her mouth to reassure him, and she was torn from Merlin’s arms, thrown across the road by an invisible force.

“Mama!” Merlin cried, rushing to her side as the guards jumped into action. One ran with him to the queen. the other three pulled their swords from their sheathes. They circled the royals protectively, battle ready. Merlin landed on his knees by her side, feeling frantically for a pulse. He found it, thready and weak. He touched her head and pulled back shocked, by the hot sticky blood. “No, no, mama, no.” She twitched, eyes unfocused, staring up at her beautiful child.

From the shadowed trees, stepped two figures. One with eyes glowing a golden fire and hands held out. The other cloaked in darkness. 

Merlin clutched his mother closer to him, holding his own shaking hand out, ready to protect her at any cost. The other figure merely laughed.

“_Today’s the day, Hunith. Everything you own, everything you love, will be mine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line about Merlin laughing about the image of baby Arthur in chainmail diapers is from the novelization of 'The Dragon's Call', he keeps it in his mind but, I thought I'd add it in because Prince Merlin is a bit more confident lol  
also idk this sounds very robotic and weird but, it's supposed to vaugely resemble a fairy tale which tends not to have much introspection, which I kind of write too much of~ so forgive me if this sucks.


	3. Transformation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The PLOT finally happens lol.
> 
> Shortish chapter but, hey it's better than nothing! I'm a tad bit stuck with the next part so that's part of why there has been a delay. But, hey...I got plenty of time to write now. I hope you're all staying at home if you can! Stay safe and well! 
> 
> Big thanks to rainbowdolphinsattack on tumblr for reaching out and for beta-ing this for me again! You're lovely~

There was a frantic knocking at Arthur’s door. He flung it open, half hoping it was Merlin coming to yell at him some more. He was disappointed to look down and see a young, round faced page, pale and out of breath.

“Yes, what is it?” He asked, voice terse.

The page bowed low. “My lord! Queen Hunith’s captain of the guard! He’s, he’s injured and bears terrible news!”

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, as he pushed past the child, sprinting to Gaius’ chamber where he knew the captain would’ve been taken. He burst into the room, just in time for the captain to yell in pain. Panting heavily, the guard’s eyes opened at the heavy wooden door slamming against the wall. The man was covered in dirt and blood, eyes wide and glassy. “Your Highness, you must go, quickly! The queen and prince...We...we were attacked! I was unable to, to carry her.” He looked sick with shame, every word a struggle. “My arms...and I know it is dangerous to move someone when they’re injured. I...I barely made it back to...to tell someone...”

Arthur’s body vibrated with a helpless kind of fear that he knew could spiral quickly into rage. He tried his best to hold onto the threads of his emotions and stepped forward to grip the captain’s clammy hand. The man’s returning grip was weak. He glanced up at Gaius and knew from the grim set of his mouth that the guard would not last long at all. “Tell me everything.”

The guard swallowed, eyes already glazing over. “Him...the...a Great Animal...please, help the...the prince...” and with that, the breath left the captain with an unsteady rush. 

Arthur swallowed, and was already running out the door, shouting orders at his knights, one thought in his mind. Bursting from the castle doors, he barely noticed the rain that was slowly but steadily beginning to fall. Thunder accompanied him to the stables, lightning lit up the darkest corners. He did not stop to properly saddle his horse, instead leaping onto her bareback as he was taught long ago, urging her from the stables and following the tracks taken first by Merlin’s stumbling steps and all who went after him. His heart shook in his chest, beating to the rhythm of his horse’s racing hooves on the earth. Rain soon plastered his hair to his forehead.

“Merlin!” He called out into the woods. “Merlin!” Every shadow held danger, every noise an enemy. But still he pressed forward and soon reached the spot where their footprints stopped. Arthur practically jumped from his horse, to the damp ground, scrambling upwards. Behind him he could hear his knights close behind. The area was a mess, less like an ambush and more like a force of nature had hit this one spot of the forest. “Merlin! Hunith!” He called again, voice high and desperate even to himself.

Lightning struck far away, in the brief light his darting eyes spotted something shining in the nearby brush. He dove for it. His fingers curled around cold metal and when a knight held a torch up, Arthur saw what he held. The sight struck him like a physical blow. A golden merlin, the necklace he’d given to his beloved not long ago. And here it lay, the delicate chain broken. “Merlin...” He breathed, and his worry was a living ache.

“Sire!” Sir Leon called, kneeling next to several collapsed forms. Arthur sprinted over, falling to his knees by the mess of copper skirts. Queen Hunith was pale, and still, so still.

“No.” He breathed, pulling her hands into his own. They were freezing. But, they twitched in his grip. He gasped and quickly shrugged out his jacket before laying it over her. “She lives. The queen lives.” he looked at Leon who kneeled across from him. “Quickly! We need a way to carry her without jostling her too much and Gaius must know!”

Leon nodded and jumped to his feet to carry out his prince’s orders. Arthur looked down at the queen and gently pushed the hair back from her face. Slowly, she opened her eyes, though they remained unfocused and distant. Her gown was dirty and stained with darkened blood though, he could not tell if it was her own. “Hunith! Your majesty.” His breath curled into the open air. She barely breathed at all. But, she breathed and that was vital.

“Arthur...I...” She murmured.

“Yes. Yes, it’s me. You’re going to be alright.” He swallowed and then with a tight throat asked, “Where, where is Merlin? What did this?”

“...so suddenly...torn from...us,” He had to strain to hear her voice. “He was...a...a Great Animal...he was...” She spoke, voice thready and incoherent.

“Where is he? Does he live?” Arthur plead. He fought to hear her over the growing storm. Her eyes were closing again but she fought to keep them open.

“Listen to me, Arthur...it’s not what it seems...It’s not what it seems.” Arthur’s fear kept ratcheting up, he was so scared, so angry, so ashamed.

“What isn’t? Hunith? Where is Merlin?”

Hunith’s eyes fluttered shut. “Merlin is...Merlin is...gone.” And she fell limp again. Only the shallow rise and fall of her chest reassured him that she lived.

“Merlin...” He breathed. A noise above the storm had him looking up. He could see a wagon rushing to them. He was sure Gaius and extra hands for all the knight’s bodies were close by. Leon stepped to his side.

“What are you planning on doing, your Highness?”

Arthur clenched Merlin’s necklace in his fist before he shoved it in his pocket. Then he swung back up on his horse. “I’m going to look for him.” The longer they waited, the more this storm could cover any traces. “Search the area as best you can. Tell the king. I’ll be back. Merlin will be with me.”

Leon watched him go, several of his fellow knights jumping up to follow their prince. Leon hoped he could find Prince Emrys. And that when he was found, he was alive. 

* * *

Merlin awoke in pain.

It was as though his entire body was being poked and prodded with pins and needles. Like his very blood was fighting to leave his veins. He groaned. It sounded strange. Like he was hearing it from underwater. He twitched, to try and test out his limbs, to check for damage and realized that yes, actually he was in water. As if that thought gave his body permission, he began to shiver. Slowly, so slowly, he opened blurry eyes. The night sky was nearly completely lightened, pin pricks of stars fading away. The light of the moon shone down over him, though it too was losing the battle to the coming dawn. The water surrounded him, licking at the corners of his eyes. His hands reached down, and much closer than he would’ve thought, there was silt and decaying plant matter. Ignoring the warnings of his body, he shoved himself to a sitting position, water pouring from his ears and hair. His robes hung heavy, soaked and sticking to his skin. It did not help the pain he was in.

How had he ended up here? Merlin shook, half from the cold water, and from the sudden fear that his mother lived no longer. The young prince took a deep breath, forcing himself to be calm and think rationally. First, he needed to get back to Camelot. And for that he needed to figure out why he was in such strange agony. Merlin swallowed hard and felt his Adam's apple catch on something. A shaky hand lifted and touched what surrounded his neck. A necklace? He slid his fingers across the smooth metal and found no adornments, no catch...Not a necklace. A collar. Not cold either, as the rest of him. It was very warm to the touch. And he knew that it was the source of his pain.

A terrifying suspicion had him looking down at his wrinkled palm and whispering into it, “_Bryne..._”

Where usually a flame sprung to life at his barest wish, instead there was nothing. Nothing but an increase in the pain in his limbs. He groaned and let his hand drop to the water again.

“Yes, your magic will have no effect while you wear it.” The voice was sudden, too close and Merlin gasped, clumsily shoving to his feet so that he could at least face the threat standing. He spun in soaked, clinging robes to face his captor. A man with long brown hair and a sharp, handsome face. But, it was twisted into an arrogant cruelty. He wore fine clothes, though they looked as if they had seen better days with dirt and a missing thread here or there. Merlin recognized the man as the one who had attacked them before.

Prince Emrys stood to his full height and forced himself to stand as he had been taught. He may have been soaked and in pain, but he was royalty, damn it. “Who are you?”

The man bowed, and it was apparent he was of nobility just from the precise movement. He had also been taught how to stand. “Dear Prince Emrys, I am King Cenred.” He stood straight once more. “Or rather former King. But, I shall be again soon.”

Merlin lifted his chin, clenching his jaw against his chattering teeth. “And how do I fit in to your plan?”

Cenred grinned. It wasn’t a nice grin. “Why, like _this_, of course.” He gestured to the sky.

Merlin turned just in time to see the sun as it rose over the horizon, painting everything in a bloody hue. Beams of light seemed to catch along the water, collecting there in an unnatural way. It slid across the lake’s surface and collected around his calves. Confusion turned to terror as the light climbed his legs. Frantic, he stepped backwards, trying to avoid it, but the light consumed him; thighs, waist, chest, until it swallowed him whole.

And he saw nothing but white. Felt nothing but pain. It could have been seconds or hours, before he became aware again. Spots of black and white danced across his vision.

Merlin went to grab his head and jerked backwards from his own touch. Horrified, he saw black feathers protruding from what was very much not an arm. It did not look or move the right way. He tried to yell and all that came out was a frantic honk. Merlin wanted to touch his throat but could not, for he no longer had the means. He dipped his head forward to stare at his own reflection and instead saw a bird. A swan. It was the most dysphoric sensation he’d ever experienced. His body was his and yet it could not be his own.

“Oh you are lovely, aren’t you? The spell translated quite well.” Cenred leered. He turned to the weeping willows that surrounded the lake’s shore nearby. “Come out now.” From the swaying branches stepped a woman with long blonde hair. That was the first thing Merlin noticed about her, the second thing was the glint of the sun as it shone off the collar around her neck. “This is Morgause. She’s my beautiful assistant. She’s helped me so much the last oh, 25 years, haven’t you, my sweet?” Without waiting for an answer he turned back to Merlin, grinning like he was actually proud of the horrible words that he’d just imparted. “Including, helping me catch and cast this spell over you. But, don’t be too terribly upset. For it does not even last the whole day.” He clapped his hands together. “As soon as the moon comes up, you will be your beautiful self once more. As soon as the moonlight touches your wings.”

Merlin honked again, flapping his wings. Cenred laughed, gesturing at Morgause. “If you would, my dear.” With a strained sort of dark dignity Morgause straightened and spoke a long string of words. The prince only recognized a handful, but he could feel the power behind them. With a flare of golden eyes, the spell passed over Merlin’s new form. “You may speak now, Prince Emrys.”

“Why have you done this?!” He could feel his heart beating too fast in his chest. Too fast, like a bird’s as it flies against its cage.

Cenred shook his head, faux regretfully. “This sort of thing does not give me any pleasure, Emrys.” He paused. “ Well, maybe just a bit. But, I’m not doing this just for the sake of it. I want something much more.” And the overthrown king paused as if for dramatic effect. “I want your Mother’s kingdom.”

Merlin felt a spark of rage, flaring up against the dry kindling of his despair. “You seem like you have the power.” He replied, coldly. “Why not just take it?”

Cenred smirked. “I tried that already. Your parents really did a number on me. I’ve learned since then. Once you steal something, you spend your whole life fighting to keep it.” He paused, taking a step forward, towards the prince. “But if I marry the only heir to the throne… We’ll rule your mother’s kingdom together, legally. No one will be able to dispute it.”

It was all too much. Merlin wanted to scream, to cry and most of all to use his magic and smite this bastard off the face of the planet. He shook with the power that boiled in his veins, pins and needles all through a foreign body. “Never.” He hissed.

Cenred held his palm against his ear, cupping it to hear better. “What was that?”

Merlin threw his dark wings out, making himself look big and vicious in a primitive show of outrage. “Never! I’ll never marry you!” He turned to run away, swim away, fly away...whatever, anything to get away, to get home. Cenred merely laughed.

“No matter where you go, you’ll just be a bird! Until you agree to marry me!” Merlin found a hidden alcove, surrounded by decaying stone walls and water weeds. He waited to see if anyone would follow him. Then when it seemed like he would be left alone... he let himself cry.

* * *

Drawing back on the bowstring, Arthur focused on the distant target. He took a deep breath and held it before letting go. The arrow flew true and hit the target, though even from here he could tell it was slightly off center. Frustrated, he dropped the bow to the side.

“That was a good shot!” Kay cried, running forward to get a better look.

Arthur shook his head. “Not good enough.”

Kay yanked the arrow from the target with only a bit of difficulty. Sighing heavily, he stalked back toward his prince. “Arthur...you’ve been going all day. Isn’t it time for a break?”

Silently, Arthur took the arrow from him. Kay watched him for a few seconds before he worked up the courage to speak. “You know the chance of him still being alive is--”

“Shut up, Kay.” Arthur barked, yanking another arrow out of the quiver behind his back. Kay watched him do the same ritual over again. Draw the bowstring back, focused, steady and calm... and then letting the arrow fly. Again it sank just off center of the bullseye. The prince was single minded in his training. He held his tongue until Arthur marched over, yanked the arrow out and marched back.

Ready to try again, and again and again.

“It’s been weeks, Arthur.” The prince looked down at the arrow he held in his palms. Dark circles lined his eyes, slightly bloodshot from sleeplessness. Kay knew from the kitchen maid he was sweet on that the prince's trays often returned with barely anything eaten at all. "Weeks of this."

“I know...” Arthur had felt each day like a tally mark in his heart. Not just weeks, but nearly a month now, 28 days of uncertainty and fear. “But, I ALSO know Merlin. He’s strong. And, I...I think...I’d feel it if he was dead.”

As he spoke, Kay watched his friend press a hand over his chest. He knew that beneath the prince’s shirt was a delicate golden falcon.

Shakily, Arthur breathed out, docked another arrow... another shot that sunk into the very edge of the bullseye. “The Great Animal won’t give him up without a fight. If I find it...I’ll find Merlin.”

Kay loved Arthur as a brother, just as much he loved him as his prince and future king, so it was terrible to see him so downtrodden. “You know I love Merlin, too. I grew up with him, same as you. But, Arthur...we've looked everywhere. Scoured the kingdom for any trace...and all we found was scraps of cloth and blood... He’s not coming back. Everyone knows it.”

Arthur stood up straight,every inch the prince. Every inch a man in love. “Everyone is wrong. Merlin is alive. And I’m going to find him.”

With that he lined up his shot, breathed out and let go of the bow string. The arrow flew true into the dead center of the target.


	4. The Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Time is utterly meaningless right now!! Motivation has been scarce. This chapter is one I've had mostly done but, I wanted to add more...and then I decided against it simply because I wanted to just put it out there and get opinions. 
> 
> This chapter isn't beta'd because I'm impatient ^^ But, I'm open to fixing/editing stuff if people think things can be improved.

Merlin had always been able to speak to animals. Though perhaps ‘speak’ was too simple a word.

Humans tended to forget how everything was connected, ignoring their ties to the sky, the earth, the water and fire. But, animals were so close to the threads of magic that weaved their way through nature. As a result, his magic seemingly allowed him to feel them, to understand their body language, to get an impression of emotions, of desires that hovered around them like an aura.

As a teenager, he’d loved to spend time among the hunting birds the most. They were so free, broadcasting their joy at being air-bound. They wanted nothing but a place to rest their tired wings, and found such a pure pleasure when he gave them little treats. Merlin could talk to them, try and put all of his intentions into his voice.

And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wished a few times to follow them through the skies, soaring above the sky, free... But, he’d never actually believed it would happen. And he would never have chosen a swan for his form.

The moon’s light spilled over the lake’s surface and over his black wings, surrounding him in the familiar liquid brightness. Merlin was human again. But had stopped feeling excited about the fact. The reflection in the water’s surface showed his pale visage, with dark smudges under his eyes. Sleep had been a near impossibility between his pain, anxious thoughts and the never ending ache in his chest that was shaped like a certain blond, blue eyed prat.

Around him creatures were stirring, frogs and turtles, fish and water birds. In particular, a curious toad had taken a liking to him, returning to Merlin’s side throughout the day. And just a few evenings ago, he’d gained the attention of a small but quick turtle.The little charmer would eat out of his hand and let himself be held and pet like a small dog. It felt rather odd to give animals names since they existed beyond such things but he'd begun to refer to them as Jean-Bob,and Speed respectively. The last really wasn’t altogether creative but, for the Gods' sake he’d been trapped on a lake for what felt like years.

The real stickler was that he could wander as far as he wanted, as both bird and human, but no matter what the sun rose and wherever he was, his body changed back to the hated swan form. If he wanted to be in his real body, he had to be on the lake’s surface as the moonlight spilt over the water. Never mind the fact that he had no idea where he was, deep in an enchanted forest that seemed to shift and change at the whim of some ancient magic. The lake itself was beautiful, teeming with life. Even with the collar around his neck, Merlin could feel the magic radiating from it. If he’d found it at any other time, he would have loved to spend time here. As it was however, each passing day had him growing more and more resentful of the place.

As he moved through the water, he spied the form of Speed as the little turtle swam towards Merlin, who carefully scooped him from the water and held him. He gave a huge yawn and began to make his way towards the lake’s shore. The magic’s influence was such that he never sank more than a few inches beneath the water’s surface, despite knowing it was deep enough to support life and that as soon as he stepped onto land, he was completely dry. Jean-Bob followed not long after,hopping around his feet with happy little croaks and ribbits. The presence of other friendly creatures made his imprisonment slightly less wretched.

Further along the shore was an overgrown gazebo, stone pillars crawling with vines, moss growing along the ground. He sat on the crumbling stone benches with a heavy sigh, lightly stroking Speed’s shell. His animal companions watched him with something that might be concern if they had been human. Merlin felt their emotions like a faint but steady echo, warm against his collared magic. The captive prince had been spending his time trying to pry the choker off with his magic and hands (which led to intensified pain), exploring the surrounding area, and figuring out how to work his newly gained wings. Oh, and choking on anxiety.

Cenred refused to tell him anything about his mother, or his kingdom. Probably hoping that the isolation and desperation would lead him to agreeing to his plan of a sham marriage. Which would never happen. Not while he had breath in his body.

If he was honest however, the main thought that kept returning to him like an itch he could not scratch was Arthur. Arthur’s face, his laughter, his stubbornness...the kiss they’d shared. Then the prat’s failed attempt at an engagement announcement.

Merlin huffed, looking down into Speed’s little turtle eyes. “He didn’t even ask me first.” But, he still found his lips curling into a fond, slightly dreamy smile as he thought of the way Arthur had looked, with the smile of a fool, and voice confident in his desire to join their lives forever. Merlin ached with thinking of how it had all gone so wrong.

He gritted his teeth, tired of feeling so upset, but tears sprung to his eyes anyway. The little reptile radiated worry, slowly pressing his head against the prince’s arm. John Bob hopped up and sat on top of the prince’s foot like he could somehow help that way. “I should never have ran away.” He whispered,choked with regret. “I should have stayed and talked with him.”

But, at the time he’d just felt so...heart broken, humiliated, uncertain...he knew it was no use wishing for things to be different but, it was hard not to when everything seemed so hopeless. Now that his sweet Mama, his Queen, might be dead. But, his mind kept rejecting the possibility, unthinkable. And he wouldn’t believe it until he saw the proof of it.

His mind turned back to the other prince over and over again, water eating through stone. “Arthur must be absolutely going mad. He’s probably tearing the kingdom apart, being all broody and demanding and,” his breath hitched, “Probably not sleeping or, or eating as much as he should be, the clotpole.” Merlin sniffed, lifting his free arm to wipe away the tears that just seemed to keep rising. Jean Bob croaked. The prince laughed wetly. “Thank you. But, I don’t think eating any bugs will help me feel any better right now.”

He swallowed and looked out over the lake’s glistening surface. He wondered what it was called. Or if it was so ancient and unknown that it had no name.

There was a noise behind him, vegetation being disturbed and Merlin spun on his heel, instinctively throwing a hand up to cast magic that would not come. Before him stood the mysterious blonde sorceress. She stood a good ways away but he could still see the way her eyes were cold, her face set with something he had no way of decoding. In her he could see nothing familiar and he knew that his experiences were nothing compared to what she had been through. Her eyes flared a sickly orange.

His own eyes darted around for her master, “What are you--?”

But, then something changed. Or rather, everything changed.

Rather than the high reeds and overgrown vines that climbed the ancient looking stone gazebo, they were replaced with thousands of flowers. Violently white cyclamens,petunias, anemones. The gazebo was no longer falling apart but shiny golden and draped with sheer fabric and pure white ribbons. Light swirled around him and his robes were suddenly lacy and sheer. A veil draped over his head, wrists and neck dripping with diamonds.

A terrible laugh like a sword being tossed to stone floor, it echoed with malice and deadly insinuations. “Your knight in shining armor is here.” Cenred stepped up onto the gazebo, dressed in decorative golden armor, like the most gaudy child’s toy. An elaborate crown topped with what must be 3 different kinds of jewels shined in the light.

Merlin scowled, knowing this to be an illusion. There had been others but none nearly as blatant or intricate as this. The disgraced king stepped closer and Merlin turned his back to him. Morgause still stood there, and even she was draped in a beautiful new dress the color of fresh blood. “All it takes is one little word, you know?” Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin watched the pathetic man kneel on one knee. Unbidden he thought of Arthur, imagined him getting down on one knee and asking for his hand. Merlin swallowed. “Then you will be free of this curse. Will you marry me, Prince Emrys?”

The prince lifted his chin. “You come here every night.” Cenred's simpering facade had already begun to fade. “You ask the same thing. And I give you the same answer.” A dark look fell over the kneeling man. Merlin finally turned, looking down his nose at him, disgust filling him. “I’ll die first.”

The man jumped to his feet with a snarl. Merlin jerked, but refused to step back. Cenred yanked off his fake crown and threw it, where it never hit the ground, instead falling into glimmers of golden magic. The rest of their surroundings shimmered and faded back into the overgrown vegetation, Merlin once again in his party clothes from when he'd been kidnapped. The man’s arm drew back and Merlin prepared himself for a long awaited blow. But instead, the man stopped, curling his fingers into a fist before it dropped to his side. The disgraced king took several deep breaths.

“Fine!” Cenred spat, dark eyes full of suppressed rage. “But, I grow impatient, Emrys. I will only wait so long. Have another day to think about it.” With that he stomped into the surrounding forest, off to do the gods only knew what for another cycle of the skies. Merlin sighed shakily, his own rage and fear settling down to the same low level it had been for the last month.

He turned to look for his animal companions only to let out a yell. Morgause still stood in the same spot she had been, rather than vanishing after her master. Pulse jumping, the prince stood up straight again, uncertain. He had no idea what to make of the woman. She seemed to be just as much of a prisoner as he was, the collar a dull reminder around her neck. Though it looked different from his, a red jewel in the center of the metal. She was still the source of all of Cenred's power, so he remained wary.

“What-what do you want?” Merlin asked. The sorceress watched him for a few more seconds before she turned to look out at the lake. Her expression never changed.

“Are you aware of how to break your curse?”

Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. “I-I...” He’d studied many years under many magical experts and tutors. Merlin knew he was powerful, he’d been told so on many occasions. But, this...something so fantastical and specific, was not something he’d ever learnt. “I mean, I’ve learned some similar things about um, animal transformation and about spells attuned to, to the day’s cycle but--”

The sorceress cut through his stuttering, “It’s always Love, young warlock.”

Merlin’s jaw snapped shut with a clack. As if the word ‘love’ was some kind of trigger, his heart leaped and his mind immediately swung back to Arthur, a compass needle to the north. “L-love? Like...True Love’s Kiss?”

She gave the barest of nods. “Some spells are more specific than others, however.” He had the strangest feeling, similar to how it felt when he was listening to one of his tutors give a lesson. “This particular one plays off the spell’s strengths. But, it also makes for a weakness. One that love can take advantage of.”

Merlin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It really was like sitting and talking with the dragon, ambiguous and vague murmurings of the intricacies of magic. “I don’t....understand.” Morgause’s jaw clenched. He abruptly realized that she probably was under a spell herself, unable to say much more. Merlin thought quickly, looking out at the lake and at the falling moon, trying to remember what he’d been taught.

“The curse...intersects between the transformation and the cycle of the day, not to mention this specific location. It-it relies on me being HERE.” He bit his lip, frantically trying to puzzle it out. “I’m tied here. In some forgotten, enchanted corner of Albion. When I’m a human, it's dangerous and confusing to traverse the woods. When I’m a swan...well, no one would believe it’s me. No one can understand me.”

Morgause tilted her head. “Its strengths.”

Merlin swallowed, slightly reassured that he was heading in the right direction. “Love...but, not True Love’s Kiss...?” Morgause merely raised a blonde eyebrow. “So...so, the opposites, Spells always have a cure and they usually are somehow equal to the original curse. And cures often rely on the unexpected to prevent easy breakage.” They were words he’d had to study and write down for tests. Cenred had picked this place for a reason. He looked around at the isolated lake. “So...a cure would rely on my human form...and...other people...?” Morgause’s face remained blank but he saw her mouth twitch. “True Love spoken to me in front of others?”

Arthur’s face swam before him, the prince as he turned to their parents and declared his intent to marry him. Then the fight, that terrible fight and all the uncertainty and self-consciousness that had risen from it. There was so much more to Love than a appreciation of beauty. He’d seen it shining in Arthur’s eyes, in the tone of his voice, the meaning behind his words...but, he’d WANTED Arthur to SAY it, because everything had been moving too fast and he hadn’t looked closely enough.

It was painfully ironic that he’d wanted a declaration of love and now it was his only chance at salvation. Assuming Arthur still felt that way of course. And if Arthur ever found him.

“The weakness.” She replied and perhaps it was his imagination but she might have sounded a bit impressed, “But, be cautious.”

“What do you mean?”

Morgause looked back into the forest, head tilted like she was hearing something he couldn’t. “This spell is particularly intricate. It cuts from both sides. A false declaration will mean certain death.”

The warlock swallowed and nodded. He looked over to say something to Morgause, ask more questions, say thank you, something...but she was gone leaving only her footprints and lingering feelings of fear and cautious gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgause wasn't really originally supposed to do this...but, I can't stop her lol. I always enjoyed her character and I think the show didn't really use her as well as they could have. She seemed very reasonable and could've been one of those magic users that weren't ~EVIL~ but, they seemingly abandoned that idea at some point. 
> 
> Here she is a pawn but, not a willing one and has her own motivations and plans. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated and make my day!
> 
> Oh! And the flower meanings! Cyclamens=separation, petunias=resentment/anger, anemones=fading hope, the feeling of being forgotten.


End file.
